


See How I'm Only Looking At You

by leominoris



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Idol Trainees, Alternate Universe - Produce 101 (TV) Fusion, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Disordered Eating, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27364966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leominoris/pseuds/leominoris
Summary: What Yangyang remembers of his audition tape is a blur. He picked a Cro song and left it up to his two and a half years of training and the foreign language to charm the jury and–well, it worked.Or, in other words: the Produce 101 AU, NCT 00 line edition.
Relationships: Liu Yang Yang/Na Jaemin
Comments: 19
Kudos: 129
Collections: '00 FIC FEST ROUND TWO





	See How I'm Only Looking At You

**Author's Note:**

> this is the third time i'm trying to post this and ao3 keeps crashing on me so i'm foregoing much in terms of notes but here are the most important things:
> 
> · i haven't actually watched any full produce franchise season. most of this is based on research only and the inconsistencies i'm aware of are creative liberties i'm taking. i just fell in love with the prompt when i saw it and wanted to adopt it, so questionable decisions were made.  
> · the rigging scandal isn't addressed in this because i'm not qualified to comment on it. i am, however, aware of it.  
> · donghyuck's weight is a specific aspect of his storyline for the show and although he is only a minor character i think it important to emphasize that this is not a critique of his real-life physique in any way. this is fiction. please keep this in mind. this is also what the disordered eating tag is for!  
> · i rewrote large parts of this rather close to the deadline, which explains sungchan and shotaro being so heavily featured. given how little we still know about them i hope the portrayal will hold up over time but i don't regret doing it. shotaro specifically is part of the 00 line, he was a very important addition to me!  
> · thank you to everyone who proofread this fic over the span of its conception. you have no idea how much of a difference your support made.  
> · also a huge thank you to admin bom for organizing the entirety of this fic fest!

If Yangyang closes his eyes he can almost pretend he is somewhere else. The heat of the spotlights overhead turn into a crude imitation of sunbeams (and oh, he remembers, it feels like he hasn't seen the sun in ages), the restless murmur of the other finalists around him a blanket of bustling street life. Next to him, Sungchan's breathing is irregular. _Maybe we had to run to get here_ , Yangyang tells himself, imagines _here_ to be the busy corner near the company building where the convenience stores sell Sungchan's favourite kind of triangle kimbap.

He imagines _here_ to be anywhere but where he's firmly rooted on the ground, shoulders tense and head held high. He's not sure if the cameras will catch him with how he's standing in the back — not by choice, but now he feels it to be a welcome shield from the audience.

The back of his shirt, a cheap imitation of a school uniform, is sticking to his back underneath his blazer and Yangyang worries a little that if he breathes too hard the top button half-strangling him will pop off.

For a moment he pauses to think about the button's trajectory if it were to take flight. Maybe it'd pop off straight and hit the back of Dejun, who's standing right in front of him and has the perfect height to be the unfortunate victim of flying collar buttons. Maybe it'd fly off in a curve and hit Sungchan's chest instead, make him flinch before he'd realize and laugh. Yangyang likes that train of thought. Sungchan may be tall but his wide, doe-eyed gaze and soft features make him look as young as he is and having watched him grow into his long limbs year after year, Yangyang feels invested in his happiness.

Or maybe, maybe the button would fall off without much fanfare and roll, roll, roll until it landed before Na Jaemin's feet, two rows closer to the camera, his back ramrod straight and his shoulders squared. He looks tense even when Yangyang knows he's trying not to. Next to him, Huang Renjun's hands are tightly wound around Jaemin's forearm.

They're all nervous, he concludes with defeat and wishes that he could pluck every single boy on stage by the hand and bring them along to where _here_ is — not on stage, not in front of a sensation-hungry audience waiting for something to happen, _anything_ as long as it makes them feel.

Yangyang would pluck them all off the stage and drop them off at the street corner near the Yuehua building and they'd crowd around the little convenience store and get dinner (his stomach churns uncomfortably at the reminder of how hungry he'd be if adrenaline weren't drowning all out) and sit down on the walkway, the concrete still warm with the sunlight it soaked up all day.

And if Yangyang didn't let go of Jaemin's hand, that'd be for the two of them only to care.

What Yangyang remembers of his audition tape is a blur. He picked a Cro song ("for the shits and giggles," he told Sungchan who indeed did giggle) and left it up to his two and a half years of training and the foreign language to charm the jury and– well, it worked. It's funny, in a way, how the cameras add a pressure he isn't sure how to handle. Having them roll here feels very different from the DSLRs set up during weekly evaluations and a part of him reasons that it's to do with the size of the audience today: the jury, the other contestants, the public watching and hoping for something revolutionary. Revolutionarily good or bad doesn't matter, as long as it has entertainment value.

After being confirmed for the Yuehua trainee roster participating in Produce Delta he sat down and watched all available seasons with Dejun and Sungchan. He knows how it goes, he knows human nature well enough to have noticed himself walk straight into the pitfalls the editors laid out for the casual watchers, the ones who tune into the pilot episodes not expecting anything in particular, the ones who fall into it on the hunt for good entertainment.

They'll focus on Sunflower Record's Lee Donghyuck, sunkissed and round-faced, because his soft tummy is easier to turn into a narrative than his voice, unique and smooth and bright in a way very different from just about any other vocalist Yangyang has ever heard in his years as a trainee. They'll pay attention to Lee Jeno who was part of Rookies, a survival show two years ago that Yangyang never heard of and carries himself with the confidence of someone who's already been through the anxieties of a first public introduction. They'll focus on Park Jisung, their youngest contestant with his soft-spoken innocence and incredible dancing skill, on North Star Entertainment's Zhong Chenle who already has a dedicated fan base back home in China and on Osaki Shotaro who almost stumbles over his rehearsed, slightly accented lines but smiles with disarming honesty.

They'll zoom in on Sungchan's doe eyes and Dejun's handsome features and Yangyang hopes, hopes, hopes not to fade next to them.

Wong Kunhang he immediately registers as major competition and he hates that he does because going by the friendly jokes they were exchanging backstage half an hour ago Yangyang would like nothing more to be his friend. But with the spotlights burning the back of his neck and the cameras catching every micro-expression of theirs to be potentially used against them in editing Kunhang's friendly face becomes a rival.

Next to Kunhang, golden-voiced Huang Renjun shuffles onto the stage, hands knotted into the hem of his sweater. Yangyang knows he's golden-voiced more by accident than anything else, having walked in on him nervously going through his lines in what he assumes will be their evaluation song now and even with the noticeable anxious wobble, he sounded warm and reassuring. He feels bad thinking it, but it's easier to disregard him as a threat when they won't be competing for the same spots to begin with.

And looking back Yangyang can almost fool himself into thinking that the moment Na Jaemin followed Renjun onto the stage was the first time he caught his attention. It'd make for a great love story, wouldn't it? Except for Yangyang isn't sure if he paid proper attention to Jaemin when the SM boys began their rendition of EXO's _Growl_ , much the same way he's not sure anyone paid him much mind when he aced Jiwon's lines in _Dun Dun_. But in retrospect, remembering sprawling out on his back next to Jaemin late at night scrambling to memorize their choreography, thinking of the tears of frustration cried in the false safety of the tiny, claustrophobic vocal practice cells and the dry touch of Jaemin's palm against his own his memories turn into his very own edit of Produce Delta.

Except for that Yangyang knows nothing of where they're headed. All he can do is strap in, expect the worst and hope for the best

— **TRACK ONE: TRIGGER THE FEVER.**

"This feels a little like our dorms," Dejun comments and winces when he smacks his head against the slats of the top bunk. Overhead Huang Renjun laughs apologetically. He's right, Yangyang thinks and hums in agreement. He's still rifling through his belongings trying to swallow the bitter spark of jealousy at Sungchan's orange sweater. He'd firmly told himself he wouldn't, come hell or high water and still, here he was fending off resentment because differently from his and Dejun's yellow C-rank sweaters their youngest had done better for himself. He should be happy, for crying out loud, Sungchan has been training even before Yangyang auditioned for Yuehua. If there's anyone who deserves to be a step closer to debut, it's him. Instead, he's glad their dorm assignments are divided by the first round of rankings. He'd probably have a hard time stomaching Zhong Chenle excitedly talking off Park Jisung's ear the way he had when Yangyang had seen them at dinner, both of their pink sweaters taunting him and facing Na Jaemin's friendly grin and lavishly loaded A-rank dinner tray had made him want to scream.

 _I'm a better rapper than Jaemin_ , he'd bitterly thought to himself and immediately felt bad right afterwards. Yangyang is competitive, but he's never felt like that with any of the other boys he's been training with so far. Knowing that he's not bad at what he does had always been enough reassurance to remind him that as long as he worked hard things would fall into place.

But it's one thing to be good at what you do when you have your own space to carve your niche out, another when everyone at the competition was sent for being good to begin with.

Everyone here wants to debut, everyone is here because there is a chance of them being ready to debut.

No one walks into a bloodbath without at least the intent of coming out of it alive.

"Who else?" Miss Jaejae's voice sounds upbeat and perfectly television-ready and Yangyang doesn't understand how she does it. It's six in the morning and by the looks of it none of the trainees have rested well — even Lee Jeno, who by the logic of it should be most likely to be used to the tension of a survival show, looks bleary-eyed and sleepy. But Produce Delta is on a tight schedule and from the sound of the title song briefing the contestants will need as many waking hours of the day at their disposal to learn the lyrics and choreography to be ready for re-evaluation and subsequent recordings.

Now, all trainees are under a certain amount of company rules. Yuehua has taken their boys aside before filming to instruct them on desirable narratives to push, to remind them that most of all they're going to be competing to draw attention to themselves and build hype for their upcoming debut. As long as they garner interest their main purpose will be fulfilled, whether they make it onto the winning line-up or not.

With that being said, exposure means that they have to settle into their predetermined personas prematurely: Dejun is to be sensitive and perfectionistic, Sungchan the doe-eyed ace and Yangyang the designated mischievous jokester. It all sounded rather reasonable in the conference room. But now, presented with a chance Yangyang only realizes that he just acted the way _he_ wanted to, rather than what is in accord with his public persona-to-be when Dejun gently slides his hand over his knee in a failed attempt to keep him in his seat.

"I'd like to be centre too." Yangyang nearly stumbles over his words under the sudden scrutiny, the Korean language becoming slippery and tricky and too nimble for his tongue. It's embarrassing at best but now that he's spoken up there is only one way left: forward, to pull through.

His decision brings forth a fair number of raised eyebrows, after all, what's he in his yellow sweater trying to achieve, competing against Park Jisung and Na Jaemin, both clad in A-rank pink? They too look rather surprised by his apparently bold proclamation and it's then that the realization of what exactly he's doing starts to sink in.

Before he can second-guess himself any further a wide, warm smile that quite frankly takes Yangyang by surprise spreads over MC Jaejae's face and she waves him down to the stage to line up next to the other two in the running.

"Once again, to be sure that we're all on the same page," she speaks to the entire crowd as he skids to a halt next to Jaemin's lanky figure. "You will receive the opportunity to perform to the song before everyone else and make a case for why you should be centre. Based on that we will ask everyone to vote for who they want to represent them during the show's title song performance! The class you've been sorted into does not influence whether you're allowed to participate. Any other volunteers following our brave Liu Yangyang's example?" Jaejae turns to throw Yangyang a friendly wink and he does the only thing that comes to his mind in the heat of the moment — he winks back.

Next to him, Na Jaemin laughs softly. It's a welcoming, genuine sound, something Yangyang didn't expect from a boy who made it into the top ten percent from the very beginning. It's contagious and before his nerves can catch up with him for good, he too is laughing.

Yangyang knows that the purpose of these title song recordings is to weed out a big chunk of trainees who don't have the basic skill and willpower to prevail throughout the rest of the series. But watching their predecessors suffer through their own title song hellscapes did very little to actually prepare him for going through it.

By the end of the volunteering process there are seven of them vying for the centre spot, with room for potential wild card performance slots in case some of them needed the extra 24 hours of practice to feel comfortable enough to compete. Looking at Dejun, Yangyang is fairly certain that his friend might cave by then, despite the deeply ingrained belief that he's not a dancer but a vocalist only.

He's pretty sure he caught Osaki Shotaro nearly stepping forward three times before apparently deciding otherwise. From his introduction Yangyang knows he's fresh off the plane from Japan and only really seems to be participating to put his company's name on the map.

There are a few like him and Dejun out in the crowd still, ones that don't want to risk fighting a losing battle on national television or haven't quite shaken off their false modesty yet.

Between them and the already fixed choices — Jisung, Jaemin, Jeno, Yangyang and two boys from smaller companies who had, much like Yangyang, received middling class rankings — the first real day of filming is shaping up to be a hard battle. Not only for the centre spot itself, Yangyang realized as he put a double knot in the laces of his dancing sneakers, but also for public attention, a competition for the editor's goodwill and a future favourable reputation.

For the contestants being glossed over the risk is lower. Maybe they'll show up once or twice in inconsequential scenes, so briefly that after the episode airs only diehard fans will remember. But by putting himself forward like that Yangyang knows that he took the spotlight and forcibly made himself a target. He's sure that by the end of the briefing the A class wouldn't have been the only one represented in the competition but even so it's very obvious how most of the others expect one of them to win.

Technically, trainees are expected to hash out how to divide training rooms with the A class being guaranteed at least one. In practice, Yangyang just tags along with Jeno because– well, because he offered with a very charming smile. And while a voice in the back of his head warns him not to trust, that this is war and Jeno is supposed to be possibly one of the biggest hurdles between Yangyang and the centre spot he finds himself agreeing rather easily.

"Can I bring my friends?" he catches himself asking and half expects Jeno to laugh at him, to call him naïve for being emotionally invested in anyone other than himself. For some reason he expects Jeno to be jaded and guarded and judgemental because frankly speaking, Yangyang can joke and put on a brave face and try to pretend like all of this is just a big game to him but he feels stuck and clueless. Normally, he might've told Dejun or Sungchan but with the cameras on them at what feels like all times and Sungchan in a different dorm for the first time in a long while and that vile, _vile_ sense of inadequacy and jealousy–

Well. Suffice to say that Yangyang doesn't feel half as confident as he wants the others to believe.

And instead of taking what could easily be read as a sign of weakness and turning it into something to make Yangyang trip Lee Jeno instead smiles and nods eagerly. "Of course! The more the merrier, right?" His expression turns a little conspiratorial as he leans in. "Jaemin and I have been friends since middle school so it's kind of as if I were bringing a friend too, you know?" The explanation seems to be about as far as he's willing to socialize at the moment and after a sound of mild surprise and an awkward nod Yangyang decides that it might be a good idea to go and fetch said friends.

When he passes a camera on his way out, his first instinct is to look away, to duck his head and make himself unseen until he's ready to present what he can do on his own terms. Instead, Yangyang decides that being reckless has been serving him fairly well today so he steadies his breath, straightens his spine and raises his chin.

There is nothing human about a camera and how its one singular lens, only really recognizable as an eye through arbitrary values, stares back but Yangyang imagines an audience on the other side and so he stares before baring his teeth in a wide, adrenaline-fuelled grin.

"Whoever decided to have us learn this in a day is evil," Lee Donghyuck whines from the floor. He's shucked his grey, nondescript F class sweater, probably two sizes too big for him, and judging by his ruddy cheeks and heavy breathing he's feeling just as winded as Yangyang, which is an incredibly reassuring notion.

The clock over the studio door reads seven in the evening and it feels like time has flown by unreasonably fast (less than twelve hours left! Yangyang's pulse picks up a little with nerves) and stopped moving at the same time. Maybe he should use past tense because for the first time since they all gathered in this odd constellation of theirs, completed by Sungchan bringing along a rather lost-seeming Shotaro and Donghyuck deciding that these are his people now and sticking with them regardless of whether he's been invited or not.

It all feels very surreal, to be sitting here shoulder to shoulder with people he'll soon be competing against. And even though spending time with Sungchan reminds Yangyang of how precious their friendship is to him, of how nothing that happens on this show should truly impact the bond they've built over the years he still feels the paranoia of not really knowing how to feel simmering underneath his skin.

If it weren't for the cameras burning holes into their backs, tracking their every success and failure (and oh, there have been a great deal of failures) Yangyang thinks he could grow to like all of these stinky, sweaty, frustrated and tired boys sprawled out across the studio floor. Whoever was in charge of the stereo forgot to turn it off again and the demo for _Trigger the Fever_ echoes a little too loudly through the space and maybe Yangyang might contemplate murdering Renjun if he doesn't stop singing along and dear god, he still does not understand why Na Jaemin ranked first when Yangyang barely made top 30 if not for his stupidly handsome grin. Jeno turns out to be a bit of a perfectionist nightmare while in the zone and a big whiny baby when he isn't and Donghyuck has butted stubbornly heads with every single one of them save for maybe Shotaro, who Yangyang is _certain_ understands a lot more than he lets on but uses the fact that he is wickedly cute to avert any real confrontation.

But in a different world he thinks they might've had a shot at being friends.

Locking themselves into such a small space for hours on end reminds Yangyang of how idol life will be if he does hit top twelve: the show producers dictating who he's to get along with, stuffing them all into a space together regardless of whether they get along and the constant pressure to play happy family for their fans. This is the reality of it: at the beginning of it, they'll likely be strangers in small, scattered groups forced to learn how to coexist a lot faster than they might have under their respective companies.

And it's going to be gross and uncomfortable at times, they'll clash a lot more harshly as the pressure ramps up and they realize that they don't know each other well enough not to painfully negotiate each other's stances, even when they don't really feel like it.

It's an awfully draining thought to have after too much time spent mulling over choreography and cramming lyrics into their heads for one performance that will be over far too soon and might not result in what they were hoping for or what they needed.

"You ready to go one more time?" Jaemin asks and pushes himself into a sitting position. His chestnut hair is sticking to his forehead and from up close without make-up covering up all of his imperfections Yangyang actually doesn't find him all that devilishly handsome anymore. He's pretty enough (and they all are, even Donghyuck, whose weight the jury harped on particularly sharply as if it were any of their goddamn business, it's part of how the game works) but without the glam and the glitz and the lighting to emphasize the glint of his unsettlingly nice teeth his chin looks too pointy and he has dark shadows underneath his eyes and he _really_ needs a shower to get the grease out of his hair.

 _As long as you're going so am I_ , Yangyang thinks. He doesn't say it out loud, opting instead to hold out his hand and pull Jaemin onto his feet a lot more harshly than probably necessary. Jaemin's hand closes tightly around his and he wants to read it as an accepted challenge. But Na Jaemin looks at him with a smile so devoid of any competitive spirit that it makes his blood boil instead. Yangyang's fingers tighten their hold and Jaemin tilts his head in the most subtle of taunting motions and next thing he knows they're two feet apart again, getting into position for another run through the choreography even though their limbs are heavy and their lungs are aching for enough rest to catch a proper, full breath.

 _I can breathe again once I've beaten you, most of all_ , Yangyang thinks and throws a challenging stare at Jaemin through the mirror. But Jaemin is laughing with Renjun and by the time he faces forward again the music has looped back to the beginning and there is no time left to see.

Eleven in the morning is not the time Yangyang would associate with anything auspicious, ever. Dejun probably has a way to spin the hour into something narratively meaningful but to be quite honest, Yangyang is tired and hungry and the AC in the hallway they're all waiting in is cranked up too high.

There is nothing special or grand about it, he's cold even though it is June and lunch break can't arrive soon enough and then they bring out the evaluation sheets. The process reminds him a lot of how normal evaluations with the company work too and it's a little surprising considering what he has seen on television. But then again, audiences change and so does the formula and most of all the three days of filming have proven that while the trainees are largely left to their unscripted devices in order to feign a sense of authenticity the production of it all is still reality _television_. Nothing about it will ever be one hundred percent genuine.

In this case, it means that they will receive their rankings now, rather than later when they're all rounded up in the studio. There are still cameras around because if it wasn't obvious before that privacy will be a distant memory for the duration of Produce Delta it surely is now. No reaction can go unrecorded.

"I can't see," Dejun gripes to Yangyang's left. To his right, Renjun tries unsuccessfully to crane his neck enough to look past a significantly taller orange contestant and makes a very displeased noise as if he didn't anticipate his master plan not working out. "That's 'cause you're short," Yangyang teases. Dejun grunts and elbows him in the ribs. Renjun, apparently feeling slighted as well (hey, if the shoe fits) meanwhile stepped onto his foot with a lot more force than Yangyang would've expected his dainty body to hold. "Since you're that much taller than both of us you could make yourself useful," Renjun comments snidely and Yangyang has half a mind to push back and see how much further he can take it before Huang Renjun, SM Entertainment's pure boy blows up into his face.

Before he can consider that option any longer, however, the re-evaluation listing catches his eye. The print is almost too small to read from where they're standing in the crowd and it takes him a moment to decipher his name in Hangul once he finds it. But there it is, in order of how they went in to present themselves again: Liu Yangyang, former rank C, current rank A. His eyes immediately search for Dejun and Sungchan, then Renjun, happy to find them all marked down as B. Even being unsure of how much these rankings truly matter in the end he can't deny the relief he feels knowing none of them were downgraded. He also catches with what feels like an almost morbid curiosity how Lee Jeno fell to C and Chenle was demoted to B, though Na Jaemin very stubbornly seems to retain his class.

"You both got promoted," he tells his friends cheerily and leans back a little, a satisfied smirk on his face. Renjun's eyes widen at the revelation and he blinks once before pushing himself through the crowd to get a better look at the listing. Dejun meanwhile whoops loudly and holds his hand up for a high five that Yangyang is very happy to return.

 _This is just the beginning_ , he reminds himself.

If even within three days so much can change there is no saying what will happen throughout the show.

The worst isn't quite over yet, though, at least not for Yangyang (nor Dejun whose confidence receives a healthy boost after his re-evaluation) and when they enter the studio after lunch break the atmosphere is charged. Everyone is on edge and sleep-deprived and according to Jeno, who joined Yangyang's little group of friends for lunch, this is a very common occurrence during shows like these. "Not like trainee life is any different," he adds with a little shrug and a wide smile. He doesn't look very nervous at first glance but Yangyang catches him holding onto his chopsticks too tightly a few times over the course of their meal.

Dejun looks like he's about to pass out by the time they sit down and are reminded of the rules: one minute, everyone has a shot regardless of their ranking. "The Delta in "Produce Delta" stands for _dreams_ ," MC Jaejae explains with a cheery giggle. "And we believe that everyone should have the chance to follow their dreams!"

It's cheesy and Yangyang sees multiple grimaces amongst the others but the moderator says it with such heart-warming excitement that it's really hard not to buy into it.

Yangyang knows that it is a farce, that the producers probably have their favourites picked out already and he probably should be more cynical, should be more cautious about getting his hopes up. But MC Jaejae says everyone deserves a shot at following their dreams and so he breathes in, breathes out and closes his eyes for a second, imagining himself on the stage, all centre and front.

"Very well, gentlemen! Who wants to go first?"

Counting out the votes in itself doesn't take long but the camera crew circles the process like a flock of vultures, getting into everyone's faces, be it contestants for the centre spot or voters trying to make their choice. They're told that more B-roll is necessary and so the shooting stretches past the amount of time dedicated to tallying the results. Yangyang wants to scream.

He's stuck sitting between Jeno and Hwang Hyunjin who, for all that he looked like a clueless fawn, was highly charismatic and a lot better of a dancer than Yangyang had given him credit for after watching his introductory performance. From the looks on their faces they too are slowly but surely growing tired of Mnet's hunt for the perfect shots and they all get so caught up in their playing pretend that Jaejae finally announcing that the results were in took a moment for it to sink in.

"We'd like to ask trainees Na Jaemin and Liu Yangyang to step forward now!"

Yangyang's body moves on its own accord, standing as a reaction to his name being called before he can even process what it means. A few seats away Jaemin gets onto his feet a little more leisurely, his posture confident and relaxed. It might sound childish but Yangyang has to tell himself off for the urge to trip him. This is a big boy playground. He'll have plenty of room for silly pranks later on.

To be honest, his performance wasn't _good_ in itself but it had drawn plenty of laughs; a rendition of their dreaded theme song through impressions of the first line-up of silly cartoon characters Yangyang had been able to think of. By the time he walks onto the stage he feels like he's already forgotten half of them. It had felt cheap but then again, apparently no one else had thought of it. The fact that his biggest competition had been Jaemin's almost grotesque aegyo-only performance of the same song made him doubt the other participants' sanity a little but maybe he should give them all the benefit of the doubt, considering how long they'd all been up.

Yangyang had still voted for Dejun even if his take on it – dancing the chorus, giving a little speech presenting himself and asking the others for support – had been rather uninspired.

All done up and grinning brightly Yangyang hopes Jaemin loses. Not just because no amount of shamelessly executed aegyo like that should ever represent a respectable survival show but also because he looks perfect. Perfect, slightly tousled hair, the make-up concealing all of his imperfections again, the image of the good boy next door. He's so perfect, especially compared to reckless Yangyang with his wild, slightly unhinged smiles and unpredictable energy — he'd heard staff talk and it had been a sobering contact with reality, to remember that in the end they're all just pawns in the hands of the network.

"Alright, after adding everyone's votes up I am excited to present you your official centre…" Jaejae makes a gesture that probably should signify a drumroll towards the crowd and the boys still sitting start stomping their feet in response. It makes Yangyang think of the stampede scene in the Lion King and wishes his brain hadn't made that link, he's unsettled enough as is.

Instead of focusing on his fears Yangyang chooses to look Jaemin square in the eyes. Just like the night before they're hard to read. A nervous, insecure glint might be a true show of emotion or just a trick of the light and Jaemin's handsome, overly perfect face looks almost relaxed. As if he's already made peace with the result, or doesn't expect Yangyang to win.

The second option is the easier one to take. Anger feels better than mulling over how he doesn't know what goes on in Jaemin's head.

"Liu Yangyang! Congratulations, you will be representing Produce Delta as our first official centre!"

Jaejae motions at him before Yangyang can process what is happening — a theme during all of this, he is unhappy to notice — and it takes a moment for it all to settle in. No matter what Jaemin was thinking of, no matter how unreadable his face had been throughout all of this, it doesn't matter anymore.

It doesn't matter because Yangyang won.

The school boy uniforms are objectively horrible. Yangyang is twenty, too close to actually having left high school to want to entertain the fantasy of being back in the thick of it all over. But he's wearing the dreaded school uniform while standing in front of everyone else, first for the camera to pick up on and that makes the uncomfortably stiff fabric and the fact that the fiber is synthetic and not nearly as nice or high-quality as it looks a little more bearable.

Because for the first time since this competition started Yangyang isn't looking at the people around him thinking about how much he has to work to outdo them, even if it has more to do with how he can't see any of the other contestants from his position. He's under no illusions that the feeling will last and so he pushes the feeling of sweat dripping down his back and the tie feeling a little too tight aside.

After half a day outside of the practice room and not having dedicated every waking hour to committing the choreography and words to _Trigger the Fever_ to his memory he almost fears that he forgot everything but the moment the music starts playing again he finds himself following the flow of it effortlessly. Looking back from the end of the season he'll find his movements stiff and a little awkward still but with the director's loud call of confirmation and the camera crew jumping into action all Yangyang does is dance. If he stops to think for too long he's certain he'll lose whatever mad energy that has been pushing him through the past seventy-two hours and even if their recordings all go well enough, there are bound to be more reshoots than any of the contestants want.

 _Trigger the Fever_ is light-hearted and as such requires stamina and the ability to convey a sense of levity and ease and that might just be one of the hardest parts about it.

None of them have the strength for what a mistake would mean and this is not a chain of dominos anyone wants to set into motion.

But with the stomping of 98 pairs of feet behind him, even if only for a little bit, Yangyang feels irreplaceable.

— **TRACK TWO: INCEPTION.**

The peace of having made it through the first mission and the first set of audience-based rankings lasts for a few blissful hours between the airing of the first episode and the next morning, once again, six AM sharp.

And this is how the cycle of dread and hope is set into motion. Where the first few days remain with Yangyang for weeks what comes after becomes vague. Timelines merge and diverge and by week five he can't quite remember if their group battles came before the position evaluations or after without looking up episodes online to check who participated in which performance.

It's like they're kept too long in a fragile state of suspension and suddenly, the constant struggle to stay afloat is the only thing Yangyang and the other contestants of Produce Delta can remember.

He quickly learns that there is a reason famous people are advised not to search themselves online and he's ashamed to admit that keeping up with netizen opinions becomes his personal form of punishment if he doesn't do as well as he would've liked to. On good days, it's easy to brush the hateful, inconsiderate and sometimes borderline xenophobic voices off as people using their anonymity to let off steam elsewhere – which, if you ask him, is pretty cowardly and weak. Still, on bad days no amount of reminding himself that none of these netizens actually know him helps when it comes to shaking their criticisms off.

In most part, they have to do with the perfect set-up he practically handed Mnet: the reckless troublemaker, foreign-born and not fully adapted to Asian culture quite yet (Yangyang hasn't bothered correcting people that he's been living in Korea for almost three years and spent time in Taiwan before moving to Germany as a child, it's not like they care) and episode one's number one, golden boy Na Jaemin. The comparisons drawn range from pretty darn hilarious to outlandish to plain mean-spirited and by the time week three wraps up Yangyang can't see Jaemin's face or name without feeling a spark of anger ignite in the pit of his stomach. What is said about Yangyang individually usually is comments about either how bad boys are hot or how he was apparently raised by wolves, which in his opinion is no more civilized than what he's being accused of.

But looking at the final cuts of the episodes it's clear that his opinion won't matter. The writers in charge of defining the narratives playing out on the show have tasted blood and a bitter rivalry between opposites still is a prevalent cliché because it _works_.

And as their numbers thin the stories become clearer: Lee Donghyuck's wobbly steps on a quest to fit into the idol body type, Park Jisung's battles with performance anxiety, Dejun's crippling perfectionism, all real problems no one really thinks much of because they're nuanced and not black and white. But they offer good parallel strands, room for emotional involvement for audiences that are more prone to root for underdogs, to lend flavour to something forcibly put into place. But as forced as it is, the longer it goes on the more Yangyang himself buys into it.

For most of the part, however, they rarely ever interact directly. Most of the cuts of their so-called rivalry he can find online as the weeks progress are from group practices with the entire cut where they each addressed the others collectively but are portrayed as if they'd had an one-on-one conversation.

Things change when concept evaluations come around and Yangyang finds himself face to face with Jaemin in the practice room.

"I think Jaemin should take center," sweet-faced Bomin suggests as they pour over the line distribution for their song of choice. "Since Yangyang, who's probably got the most experience out of us is better off taking the rap lines Changbin won't be covering." Immediately, six heads swivel towards the boy in question. Yangyang has learnt that Jaemin actually isn't quite as obnoxious and outgoing when he isn't around his company mates, which is pleasant. The less of him he has to acknowledge, the better. It still irks him that none of the other boys immediately contest Bomin on the statement, as if neither Dongju nor Asahi nor Shotaro think they could do better.

"The centre parts are all vocal lines, though," Jaemin points out and for the first time his insecurity shines through plainly. So much for perfect. Yangyang hopes the cameras catch it, that the editors take advantage of it. Isn't this what people like, when the mighty fall?

"I think you'd still do best," Shotaro offers a gentle, smiled bit of encouragement. "I'd rather have few lines but be sure that I'm doing them right." That train of thought they all collectively agree on, even if Yangyang is convinced that Shotaro is selling himself short. Nothing is truly extraordinary about Jaemin, not as far as his artistic skills go. All he has speaking for him are decent genes and the infuriating ability to apparently make everyone like him. Everyone, save for Yangyang.

Negotiations drag on for a little longer but by the end of it the conclusion is made: Asahi, their most experienced vocalist outside of the rap line is already left with a main vocalist role he probably won't be able to live up to anyway. Dongju and Bomin are both as uncomfortable with singing as Jaemin and for a moment, Yangyang hopes that Bomin will decide otherwise, that he'll challenge his own suggestion. But in the end they're left a little hopeless staring at a song that they'd all like to do justice, knowing very well that they will disappoint.

To Jaemin's credit it should be mentioned that he does an okay job at learning the choreography. He's forgetful, Yangyang notices not for the first time, but he stays long hours and he is open to critique and corrections not only from Coach Choi who supervises their dance practices but also his other team members. But unlike all of his previous missions where staying in his comfort zone allowed Jaemin to focus on charming the audience rather than showing any substantial artistic skill this one is a challenge he seemingly can't truly live up to.

Jaemin's voice is deep and when he stays in his speaking range he sounds fine enough, even Yangyang will admit that. The problem arises in how a lot of the higher notes push him into sounding strangled and no matter how many times he's made aware of it, he skips entire phrases because his breathing is off. None of them sound really _good_ , not even Changbin and Yangyang who for all intents and purposes should be thriving in positions they're familiar with. But the heavy mood drags them all down and as their performance date inches closer and closer they're left with the conclusion that with a song so heavily leaning on vocals they're not going to impress the jury panel nor the audience.

Yangyang catches Jaemin practicing at fifteen to midnight, maybe twelve hours before their dress rehearsals. Group consensus was for everyone to get in as much rest as they could. With how hopeless things were looking it was imperative for at least the things that were working to work well, so going into the studio well-rested and decently fed had taken priority over reckless late night practicing like this.

"You're going to drag us down if you're tired tomorrow," Yangyang snarks from the doorway. Jaemin jerks in surprise, blinking for a moment before he recognizes him. "I'm dragging us down no matter what," he then shoots back testily.

And Yangyang knows the cameras are still on. He knows that everything he says can be used against him to drag him further through the mud. But hearing Na Jaemin, of all the people, sound so pitifully sorry for himself is the last straw.

"You have no idea what it's like to struggle on this show!" Yangyang feels his anger flare only after the words are out in the open. He might as well have slapped Jaemin from the reaction he gets. It feels so satisfying, to watch SM's pride and joy recoil as if he'd been physically struck and a rush of power shoots through Yangyang's system. "You have _no fucking clue_! You've never ranked below seventh or eighth! You don't even care, everything to you is just one big game and you're coasting and taking up space someone else would give up everything for!"

Breathing in short, laboured puffs Yangyang takes a step forward and curls his fingers into the collar of Jaemin's shirt. Looking back he'll scold himself for not thinking of his image. He remembers the Yuehua manager's disapproving looks and how badly he wanted to flip the guy off, thinking at the time that it didn't matter if he went against company orders only to feel blindsided by the comments he saw online.

He's been on thin ice from the beginning for being loud, for daring to stand out. Openly fighting with Na Jaemin, everyone's darling, is like lifting a neon sign over his head and asking for the general public to drop any support for him they might've considered sparing otherwise.

Yangyang expects nothing from Jaemin. He's watched him for the past months, he's seen him be mellow and unreasonably generous and gentle and it makes him so, so angry. There is no rational explanation for why exactly he feels this way, Yangyang isn't a violent person, hell, he's usually the first one to be accused of not taking things seriously enough, and he's still ranking below Renjun and Sungchan and Dejun. He could be mad at Chenle, who has been holding onto number one for two consecutive weeks now, he could be mad at Shotaro who came into all of this with three months of training and has had public support from day one just because the general consensus was that he is cute.

There are plenty of people for Yangyang to direct his scorching jealousy towards.

Instead he picks Jaemin. Because Jaemin is there, because Jaemin is smiling tiredly even when everyone is exhausted and on the verge of frustrated tears, because Jaemin is gentle and supportive and is well-liked by everyone. Because even when the coaches chew him out they'll eventually direct their critiques towards someone else as if they aren't physically able to humiliate him the way they do with everyone else.

Even when he's not number one, Na Jaemin is special and Yangyang hates him for it.

And even more than that, Yangyang hates that he still wants to be around him. That he stares at Jaemin in all of his mild-mannered, goofy, careless glory and wants him to pay attention to him, that he wants to reach over and pull at his hair until he's close enough to kiss.

Yangyang has every reason to expect Jaemin to look away, to try and de-escalate the conversation the way he always does whenever someone looks at him wrong for too long. Instead, for the first time since seeing him introduce himself, Jaemin snaps.

"You have no right to just decide whether I care or not," he bursts out and the anger makes his face look distorted, his teeth too sharp, his eyes too bright. It's like fire escaping from its confines and taking hold of an entire forest, burning everything in its way to ash. "You don't even know me! You've never cared to! I work just as hard as everyone else! What makes you think that I don't want to win?!"

This Jaemin, desperate and upset and burning himself to the ground in his own rage, is beautiful in a way Yangyang hadn't anticipated. He's breathtaking and all-encompassing and terrifying and still, his hands curl tighter into the collar of his pink shirt. He wants to stay, to let the heat fuel his own bitterness. He wants for it all to finally have a way to breathe, to exist outside of his mind where it can no longer fester and hurt him and him alone.

"And you think working hard alone will get you to the top? Because this is television and if you're deluded enough to think that _hard work_ is what's keeping you at the top you're a lot more stupid than I thought!" "So I don't want this badly enough because I'm not willing to walk over everyone else to secure my spot, is that what you want me to say? Or that I don't actually care about anyone but myself so you can feel better about disliking me?"

"Is anything you say or think ever _not_ about you?!" Yangyang shoves and Jaemin stumbles but their stare-off doesn't break even for a single second. Jaemin too is now breathing heavily and his cheeks are flushed with indignation. "I want to win," he says in place of an answer.

For some reason, Yangyang had imagined the confession to feel more satisfying. As if a display of Jaemin in all of his flawed, greedy human nature would make himself feel better. It doesn't. It just makes him feel horrible once the realization starts sinking in that, yes, indeed, Na Jaemin is like every single one of them: flawed and greedy and desperate and struggling. And maybe he doesn't see his privilege in the same way Yangyang has always had the privilege to focus on the top 20 contestants, only really worrying about his elimination for the first time during the last episode's voting.

"I want to win, so badly," Jaemin repeats and there is a dejection to his words, to his tone and posture, as if admitting it shames him. And while the seething, competitive monster in the back of Yangyang's head calls it a ruse and paranoidly searches Jaemin's face for a hint of deception, for an indication of how he's just acting still, playing a game, preparing himself to make Yangyang look bad by playing foil, highlighting flaws so he can come out cleaner, brighter, there is none of that in the way Jaemin holds himself.

"And sometimes I get scared of myself because I get so obsessed with it. When–"

He swallows.

"When Jeno beat me out for votes two weeks ago I felt horrible because for a moment all I could think about was how unfair it was, how Jeno has experience and has trained for so much longer than me and how we shouldn't be judged the same way. I thought about how much work I put into my performance and I felt angry with my teammates because we didn't win. I felt angry with myself because I didn't do better."

With every word it looks like Jaemin is falling a little further into himself. "But I don't want to win feeling like this. I don't want to become number one in spite of everyone else's efforts, just because I'm _better_. I want to win with everyone else. I want to be better than these worst parts of myself. I want to be able to watch reruns of this show and not feel any more embarrassed for how selfish and ambitious I've been because you might not see it and the audience doesn't, either, but I'll always know it was there. Because I felt it and it _gutted_ me to be someone I don't want to be in front of so many others, at the cost of so many others."

A slow, tired breath leaves Jaemin and his shoulders sag. Yangyang feels himself mirror the motion and for what feels like a very long time they just stare at each other. Jaemin is crying and he looks a little funny and a little ugly and a lot like an overworked, stressed twenty-year-old. He looks like Yangyang feels.

"I don't want to be like this either," he admits into the quiet, too loudly, too sudden. Jaemin flinches.

"I want to win. But I hate comparing myself with others all the time, putting others down so I can feel better about my ranking, about how I performed. I don't want to make mistakes and feel like I have to blame someone else so I don't give up the next time I look at myself in the mirror."

Jaemin's arms around him are unexpected and warm and a little too tight but in that exact moment, Yangyang doesn't care. His own arms wrap around Jaemin's waist and once again his fingers curl into the fabric of his sweater, only this time, he does it to draw him closer, rather than to keep him at bay.

"I'm sorry," Yangyang wails. "I hate being like this– I hate feeling angry and stressed and calling my mum and dad so they can tell me that I'm still doing okay and that they love me only for me to end the call and tell myself they're only saying it because they're biased and my parents. I hate searching my name on Naver even though I know I _shouldn't_ and reading all of the nasty comments and articles on Pann talking about how I'm trouble and greedy and mean because I– because I _want_ things! I want to be friends with Sungchan and Dejun again without thinking of them as competition!"

Jaemin hums, his voice watery and soft and the gentleness of the sound draws another loud sob from deep within Yangyang's chest.

They slowly sink to the ground, still holding onto each other for dear life. The wood floor underneath their knees is hard and uncomfortable, especially against their tired, aching joints but Yangyang refuses to let go.

"I don't like hating you." Jaemin laughs softly and squishes his cheek against Yangyang's. "I don't want you to hate me either. I want to be friends with you, Liu Yangyang, because you're so cool when you're on stage!" Yangyang smacks his back lightly, but the motion holds no real force. "I mean it! You're a better rapper _and_ dancer than me and I know! Even when you mess up you still make it look effortless and like nothing can reach you when you're on stage. I want to be more like you, but most of all I want to be your friend."

Very, very carefully, Jaemin pries Yangyang off of him and holds him at an arm's length. His dark eyes hold an intensity Yangyang has only ever seen him employ on stage. "Please let me be your friend. I want to debut by your side."

Yangyang reaches up to rub at his wet cheeks and sniffles once before nodding. It's a slow, contemplative gesture but it's unmistakable.

"Yes. You better not debut without me, Na Jaemin."

Jaemin smiles and it's not sparkly or flashy or anything. It's tired and teary and full of relief and it's everything Yangyang had wanted out of seeing him weak and vulnerable, he realizes.

"I could never live with myself if I did."

They flub their dress rehearsal. To be honest, Yangyang isn't surprised when the coach calls Jaemin to the front. The lack of sleep the night before is catching up with the entire team, most of all him and Jaemin who already stayed longer and wasted energy on yelling at each other and crying. All of them tense visibly when coach Lee has their centre stand before everyone else and eyes him with an unreadable expression. "I'd like to know," he starts in his calm, polite voice, "How you all came to the dress rehearsals when your centre can barely hold his lines. How do you plan on competing with the other team when your performance is bad?"

Next to him Yangyang hears Shotaro gasp softly in sympathy. All of them have been on the receiving end of harsh criticism clearly targeted at decimating their confidence but out of all of the trainees on the show Jaemin, as the audience darling, has gotten away unscathed the most frequently. Seeing him being torn down like this is painful even when neither one of them is in his spot.

"We all voted that Jaemin should be our centre," Bomin, who they'd declared their team leader justifies quietly. He leaves out how a lot of that choice was motivated by how they all knew that Jaemin would be the choice the audience — and showrunners — would want to see. Coach Lee raises an unimpressed eyebrow. From where Yangyang is standing he can't see Jaemin's expression but he admires his tenacity to stand with his head high despite the scathing criticism.

"Well, gentlemen, I am afraid to inform you that you have misplaced your judgement. See you tomorrow for your performance."

One after the other they trail offstage. Every single one of his teammates looks rattled by just how badly the rehearsal went over and it is visible, both by how they move in silence and how vacant their expressions seem. "I'm sorry," Jaemin whispers and finally, _finally_ , a full minute after they entered the changing room he breaks completely. And just like the night before Yangyang realizes that he takes no pleasure in seeing him torn down like this the way he'd imagined he would. Even if his own success weren't on the line, hard as it may be to separate from the situation, Yangyang aches for him most of all.

"Don't be," Changbin grumbles. He's displeased, understandably so, but places a warm, reassuring hand on Jaemin's shoulder. And after a split-second of staring and weighing his options Yangyang pushes past Asahi and Dongju and wraps Jaemin into a tight, heartfelt hug. None of them are surprised. They prioritized having their strongest rappers in place and now they're paying for it, it is a collective mistake. They've all slaved away at it for long enough to have dejectedly come to terms with the fact that their performance would be imperfect.

"That was unfair," Shotaro whimpers and sidles up to Jaemin too, gently taking one of his hands. "He was right, though," Jaemin croaks. "He just wanted to be mean because no one has had reason to be mean to you before," Yangyang argues and holds him a little tighter. Jaemin finally returns his hug, even if only with one arm. "You _will_ have to be sorry if you don't do your best tomorrow," Asahi adds dryly and Bomin nods. "Yeah. We can't reshuffle positions now, it's too late for that. We can only do our best and hope."

Bomin isn't quite right. Watching Jaemin let his head hang low is driving Yangyang crazy so after dinner he grabs one of Shotaro and Jaemin's hands each, pulls a squabbling Donghyuck and Renjun aside and hunts down Jeno. He shepherds them all into a practice room and inserts their demo CD into the stereo.

"Look. I'm probably breaking every single fraternization with the enemy clause that exists out there but Jaemin is in trouble," he tells the confused group of boys sitting at his feet. Jaemin flushes embarrassedly and Yangyang feels a strange knot in his stomach form when he sees Renjun's hand immediately find Jaemin's, covering it with so much tenderness that it hurts to look at. "We–" He gestures at himself, Jaemin and Shotaro, "Need your help. I know you have zero reason to help us perform better but–" "What can we do," Jeno interrupts, a determined expression on his face. Jaemin looks up with tears in his eyes. "Jeno-yah–"

"Hell yeah we're helping," Donghyuck chimes in and dusts his hands off on his joggers. He looks almost gaunt, the effects of their new "meal plan" slowly but surely taking effect in a worrisome way, but none of that is seemingly enough to stop his fighting spirit. "Of course," Renjun adds, though his confirmation wasn't really necessary with how he'd been looking at Jaemin already.

"We can all help each other," Jaemin suggests tearily and Renjun slides onto his lap to hug him tightly. Jeno pats his shoulder, Shotaro playfully nudges their feet together. "That's a pretty cool idea," Yangyang agrees and throws Jaemin his wildest grin. This time around, it's his turn to be the strong one with the perfect TV smile.

Jaemin returns it.

They look weak next to Team _Remember Me_ who perform right before them and Yangyang isn't surprised. None of them are, least of all Jaemin. Renjun in particular shines in his red and black striped sweater and Yangyang is pretty sure every single one of his team members voices praise for him at least once and– well. It's hard to keep up with a team that has vocalists that are confident in their skill.

But Jaemin gets called to the front again after their performance, drenched in sweat both from exertion and nerves, and Coach Lee in particular spares him a mild smile. "I know I criticized you very harshly yesterday, trainee Na Jaemin," he starts. Next to Yangyang Shotaro holds his breath and Yangyang finds that their fingers slot together in trembling anticipation almost automatically. He can see Bomin gnawing on his bottom lip and Dongju shift restlessly. Even Changbin looks tense even though few things were as universally agreed upon as how thoroughly he killed his parts.

"And I don't know what you did but whatever it was, I hope everyone sees this and takes it as motivation to try better. I could still give you a long list of improvements to make but colour me impressed."

They stumble off the stage in a dazed row and even though they just lost rather devastatingly Yangyang has only a moment to process before he's being dragged into a tight, heartfelt group hug.

And although they're all exhausted and confused and only just falling off their adrenaline high Yangyang can't recall a single unhappy face in the midst of it.

— **TRACK THREE: BOOM.**

Things happen slowly, and then all at once. Or maybe they don't, but Yangyang only notices the shift when it all falls into place. His tender armistice with Jaemin doesn't immediately make them friends. When Jaemin is voted back into first place one week after their performance of _Inception_ (during which Yangyang, for the record, placed higher for the very first time, something that he takes great pride and satisfaction in!) the jealousy is still there, burning uncomfortably in the back of his mind and tinting everything with a jealous shade of green.

But it becomes easier with each passing day. As their ranks thin out the remaining contestants start banding together in a way Yangyang's self at the beginning of filming had highly doubted would ever happen organically. They're still competition to each other and by their last week twenty are left but twenty are still eight too many trainees looking to debut. But even though for their last performance Jeno, Shotaro and Renjun aren't even part of the same group Yangyang finds himself growing closer with the remaining boys born in 2000. It is a silly coincidence most of all and Kunhang jokingly calls them Produce Delta's very own Millennials — too literally, rather than how the word is meant to be used but he doesn't seem to care — but it sticks. As do the people.

"You'd like our choreography, Shotaro," Yangyang listens to Donghyuck enthusiastically recount their first dance practice for _Boom_. He's eating properly again, though no thanks to the showrunners. It took Renjun and a hefty amount of screaming on both sides to get Donghyuck off the meal plan Produce Delta had forced onto him but now that his cheeks have rounded out a little more again he looks positively radiant. Yangyang understands why Sunflower Records was banking on him debuting as a soloist, he'd surely have the charisma and skill to do it. Even with his push from F to D his green sweater does nothing to showcase what he can do when unleashed onto the stage.

"Really? What's it like?" Shotaro's eyes light up. His Korean has improved tremendously even if he often still stumbles over particles and his choice of words sounds either very simple or too stilted for what he's trying to say but having the ability to communicate more clearly what he thinks and feels clearly did wonders. And the audience loves it too — Shotaro has been ranked third consistently for the past few episodes. Yangyang is a little jealous of him too, of how instead of making him a villain Mnet decided to just push the fact that he really _is_ as cute as he seems at first glance, though a little more mischievous than most would have assumed. People like cute. He's popular.

But for all that Yangyang feels jealous, setting aside unnecessary comparisons and admitting that the love he's been receiving is justified, especially considering the historically charged hate comments Shotaro is still subject to.

Rooting for Shotaro isn't a thing he does to signal virtue but because it comes easily to him, because he cares for a friend.

Jeno, much like Shotaro, has been ranking well so consistently that Yangyang refuses to think about him not getting to debut. Jeno himself naturally sees that differently because of course he would, Lee Jeno is humble and soft-spoken when off stage and prefers to be a pessimist about his own odds even though he doesn't hesitate to lift everyone around himself up. But if there's anyone who deserves a spot just by virtue of experience and missed chances, it's him.

Renjun out of all of them might be the one who's made the most artistic progress. He wasn't bad to begin with but the competition pushed him in all the right ways and where his voice was bright and golden before it now has a crystal clear quality to it that, while not as distinctive as Donghyuck's, is reliable and beautiful and sounds so quintessentially like what Yangyang thinks an idol singer should sound like that it becomes incredibly hard to imagine a final line-up without him. He's the one Jaemin goes to first when he needs help with his own vocal bits and Yangyang is almost embarrassed to admit surprise when Renjun, one night during their showers in a rare moment or privacy admits that they used to date. "I was scared that Jaemin wouldn't trust anyone else other than me and Jeno. That'd be bad, we're supposed to be a team," Renjun had muttered softly and leaned his head back to rinse the shampoo suds out of his hair.

"But he's been opening up. Ever since Inception, ever since you made him sit down and ask for help."

Yangyang didn't mention how he asked in Jaemin's place, how Jaemin isn't at a point where he can ask for help himself yet but that was probably for the best or he might've either commented on how Renjun really did have balls of steel, to be dating a boy under SM Entertainment's nose, or, and potentially more damning, he could've let slip how relieved that knowledge made him feel — that it all was past tense. That the tender touches and familiarity that he'd grown so wary of because it sparked a sense of loneliness and rejection weren't signs of a budding romance rather than a friendship forged through love and the loss of it.

"Will you teach me? Once all of this is over?" Shotaro's voice pulls Yangyang out of his thoughts. He sounds meek, insecure and when Donghyuck reaches over to pull him into a rough, one-armed hug it feels a little like he's conveying what they're all feeling, a strange ache feeling the end of it all approaching too fast for them to adapt. "Yes," Yangyang promises before any of the others can speak up. "Yes, we'll teach you. We'll stay friends after this. I'll haunt you all if you don't," he threatens and in the seat next to his Jaemin laughs. The sound of it sends Yangyang's heartbeat into a dizzy twirl and he's glad the others are too busy paying attention to how Shotaro's cute face lights up at the promise.

"Yangyangie told me we'd debut together," Jaemin adds. "I'd like to hope that more than just the two of us all of us can stand on stage together by the end of it all."

It's reckless to make such a pact. They don't know what the show producers have in mind and the audience vote aspect makes the outcome impossible to predict from a contestant's standpoint. Yangyang for one has grown tired of trying to predict what the general public will vote on when the smallest of things are enough to steer a winning vote one way or another.

But then Donghyuck tugs Shotaro's hand into the middle of their table and kicks Jeno's foot under the table in a sign for him to do the same. And one after the other the remaining hands follow, as if they'd planned it. "That's it then, guys. We're debuting together," Donghyuck proclaims with a wide grin on his face.

"And we're teaching each other the dances the others don't know," Jeno adds, eyes pulled into the crescent moon eye smile that has made him the secret heartthrob of the show. "And we'll stay up late helping each other out," Renjun pipes up.

"If we dream it we can be the ones," Yangyang blurts out and it might be the worst contribution to the moment but it draws a laugh from the others, so it's good enough. Next to him Jaemin's thigh is warm where it rests pressed up against his own.

"Damn right we can," Jaemin cheers.

Breaking tradition the winners for the show are announced from twelve to one, no weird tricks to direct suspense more than necessarily, no detours. Rank eleven sees Donghyuck facing off against Keonhee, who Yangyang is sad to see hold back tears when the first piece of their pact falls into place.

"Congratulations to trainee Lee Donghyuck," MC Jaejae announces with such genuine joy that Yangyang feels his legs grow weak with relief. "Dear national producers, please welcome Delta Dream's first member!"

With every member revealed it feels like a bigger weight is being lifted off Yangyang's shoulders. He is announced eight, following Shotaro and Dejun and nearly blanks out on his speech altogether, which prompts an endeared laugh from the audience. _Bad boy at a loss for words when confirmed as part of idol group_ , he'll muse later on rewatching the clips and cringing in embarrassment. What he refuses to feel embarrassed for, however, is turning back to the remaining boys and smiling widely.

"Hey, Jeno. Renjun. Jaemin. Sungchan."

He sees their heads perk up in response, even through the tears. "We're debuting together, remember? You promised."

And so it goes, counting down Kunhang and Renjun, then followed by Jeno who also receives the honour of being named leader after being elected by the majority of the remaining contestants. Jeno's smile is radiant with pride.

Then, fourth, comes Sungchan who smiles up at Yangyang with such hope that it makes him feel bad for having neglected his friend over petty jealousy. Just as coming to terms with Jaemin's success had been a hard pill to swallow, digesting the feeling of being left behind by Sungchan had driven a wedge between them and it shouldn't take the ranking ceremony for it to feel like things are slowly shifting back into their respective places.

But it does. And at least that means that there is hope for them to bridge the gap again, hands outstretched and fingers ready to interlace.

Third comes in Park Jisung who bursts out into surprised tears so violent he can barely make it through his speech. Jeno expects him with open arms when he stumbles up the stairs to where the winners are sat in two neat rows. Jisung falls into the hug without a single thought spared to the potential hit to dignity, curling himself up into someone so small it becomes hard to fathom.

Which leaves them with ranks two and one. The screens over the participant seating ranks change to show Chenle on the right and Jaemin on the left. Their speeches both go in through one of Yangyang's ear and out through the other, mostly consisting of the usual television platitudes; _thank you for your consideration, I couldn't have gotten here without our national producers_. Fluff to appease the audience, speeches to charm the voters one last time.

The suspenseful music that the sound technicians play over the silence that follows feels too loud.

"At this point I'd once again like to remind all contestants, no matter their elimination or lack thereof, that they have completed incredible feats during the run of this show. Without you Produce Delta could have never existed!"

Jaejae smiles up at the participant's seating ranks and Yangyang joins the loud cheers for their friendly perhaps-a-morning person host who went through all of it alongside them.

With her own parting words out of the way the MC looks down at the cue cards in her hand.

"And now comes the moment where we not only announce ranks two and one but also the future centre of Delta Dream." The silence in the studio feels deafening. Even their live audience quiets down to little more than a background murmur and Yangyang feels his hands tighten over the cheap padding of his winner's seat. At the front, big on screen Jaemin gnaws at his chapped bottom lip. Yangyang wishes he could hold him.

"Coming in first with 1,341,483 votes is…" Chenle's jaw tightens and Jaemin swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly. "SM Entertainment trainee Na Jaemin!"

Overhead a confetti cannon is fired and for a moment the stage turns into a mayhem of glitter and gold. Jaemin is handed a microphone he nearly drops and Yangyang lets out a loud whoop that is half-swallowed by the applause the victory earned him. And still, Jaemin looks up until his eyes catch Yangyang's and he smiles.

 _As promised_ , his expression seems to call.

 _We promised and now here we are_.

— **BONUS TRACK: MAKE A WISH.**

Yangyang still feels the adrenaline high when they're guided out of the van and into their dorm building. A few steps ahead of him Dejun is enthusiastically discussing the visual effects the screen behind them had played during their concert — their very first, very own concert! — with an equally enthusiastic Shotaro, both of them clearly still riding the wave as well.

Renjun has curled into Donghyuck's side as they both half-haul each other into the lift, their energy clearly used up after the events of the night. Yangyang isn't sure they heard their manager reminding everyone to shower before bed before he sees them all off by the lift, finally sure that all eleven of them made it back home.

Tomorrow is Sunday, a rest day.

And still Yangyang finds himself up too early, glaring at the kitchen clock telling him it is ten in the morning when he enters the room to grab a glass of water. Jaemin sits on the counter, a piece of toast with marmalade in hand.

"You're up early," he greets and Yangyang wants to shove him off the marble countertop. And then, he'd like to catch him and pull him closer until their faces are only a hair's breadth apart. Jaemin's hair is growing longer and shaggy and has been recently dyed a startling platinum blonde and it looks about as destroyed as one would assume three long rounds of bleaching would but it's striking, it suits him.

Yangyang has been thinking about kissing him long before that happened but the look awakens something old and hungry in him.

"Woke up naturally, though," Yangyang hums and downs his glass all at once, earning him a blithe laugh. Jaemin sets his food aside and hops off the counter. "The others are still asleep, right?"

It only takes one and a half-aborted nods before Jaemin surges forwards and his lips, sticky with sugar and bitter orange, meet Yangyang's. And in spite of morning breath and the post-concert exhaustion still sitting deep in his bones Yangyang loses no time lifting his arms just enough to wrap them around Jaemin's waist, pulling them close.

The exhilaration of it is different from the one he feels when performing. It's electrifying and tastes like sunlight-golden victory and plastic confetti, it sounds like a heart thundering so loudly against its bony confines in his chest that it could drown out the bass on stage.

Yangyang kisses like a drowning man and Jaemin is his oxygen.

It's so strange to imagine how two years ago none of this would've ever felt feasible, how in June of 2020 Na Jaemin was a stranger to Yangyang, how in July he was an enemy and in August they were suddenly standing side by side at the top of the world.

But in this pocket of calm they carve out for themselves on this sleepy, warm summer Sunday morning everything feels possible if they only wish hard enough for it.

"Good morning," Jaemin greets with a smile that has too many teeth and reaches too widely across his face. From so far up close he's even more beautiful than on stage, bare-faced and riddled with imperfection, lashes fluttering as he lets his eyes fall shut and leans in for another kiss.

"Good morning," Yangyang chimes before their lips meet again.


End file.
